


Winging It

by 101oBsEsSioNs



Category: Christian Bible, Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Lucifer (Supernatural), Dean Winchester's First Time With a Man, Drunk Sex, Drunken Confessions, Dubious Consent, First Kiss, Internalized Homophobia, Jealous Dean Winchester, Love Potion/Spell, Lucifer's Cage (Supernatural), M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Sex Pollen, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Michael (Supernatural), Truth Spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28168479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/101oBsEsSioNs/pseuds/101oBsEsSioNs
Summary: At the end of season five, Sam throws himself in the pit, and in season six, he's rescued. But what happens if instead of Lucifer's escape being through Rowena in season eleven, it was right after Sam's rescue? And what if it was with his fellow angel and worst nemesis, Michael?Lucifer's on top again, and only the Winchesters and their trusty angel, Castiel, can save humanity from the end of all life as they know it and Dean will do anything to save Cas from making the ultimate sacrifice, even if it requires an 'unique' sacrifice of his own.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Lucifer/Michael (Supernatural)
Kudos: 9





	Winging It

**Author's Note:**

> Weekly updates on Sunday nights. More notes at the bottom.

In the beginning there was nothing. No really. Nothing. Like there was nothing to do. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Two princes fated by God Himself to battle to the death and struck down by the weakest, most broken and useless of creatures. Humanity. Michael’s lip curls back with a low growl. How dare they act against their Holy Father! How dare they act against Michael himself, Prince of Heaven! How dare they dare to do anything besides crawl around on the Earth like cockroaches, thinking they have any business with that Above! 

“Michael, stop monologuing, no one’s listening.”

Lucifer’s curled up in his corner of the Cage, appearing listless and void of emotion. Even the insult lacks fire. Michael’s sick of it. He jumps to his feet. 

“Rise,” he commands.

Lucifer glances at him, eyes slightly unfocused, without saying anything. 

He’s always like this. The longer we’re here, the worse it gets. Michael sneers. 

“Rise and fight me, brother.” 

No response. At this point, even cartoon crickets chirping would be better than this- this nothingness. 

“Now!” Michael appears right in his space, all flared wings and aggressive tension. Lucifer couldn’t care less. What is he going to do? Kill him again? The Cage will just piece him back together, like a cruel joke, and he’ll get a few more months of void, which Michael hates. The older angel would never admit it, but he needs Lucifer, even if just for company, even if just to use as something to keep from losing it. Losing it like Lucifer had long ago when Michael left him here, in the dark and alone. 

They’ve fought so often, his stomach never stops pouring blood down his hips and thighs. He’s constantly matted with it. He didn’t know it was possible to bleed this much. Lucifer could fix it but he has more important things to do with his remaining power. It’ll just have to wait. It’s not like he can die, unfortunately. So Lucifer doesn’t bother this time. 

He plunges his hand through his brother's heart and the lights go out once more. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Michael is on fire. 

No, really. 

The eldest archangel, once the proudest and strongest in all of the heavens, screams in agony and frustration as the former angel of light hurls yet another fireball.

Michael twists out of the way just in time to avoid Lucifer’s right hook, muscles tensing to pounce. He grabs him by the throat and slams him against the cage wall, winces involuntarily as his knuckles graze the searing white-hot bars. 

Lucifer doesn’t even flinch.

“How do you not burn?” Michael whispers, more to himself than the traitor, his lost brother, despite seeing the evidence before him. Lucifer’s charred wings scape the bars like a prisoner banging tin against his cell doors but he smiles coldly. Everything about him is so, so cold. Michael will never admit it but the fallen angel’s skin feels so pleasant against his own. Hell is just as uncomfortably ablaze as they say it is, though thankfully the cage isn’t fire to the point of severe pain. It feels more like a human sunburn, leaving Michael irritated and uncomfortable and but not scorched. 

“I’m used to it. I have become ice. Plenty of time to evolve, brother, when you’ve been sentenced to eternal solitary confinement. I have no heat left and though the bars continue to tear me apart, I am at peace with the pain.” He snorts, human-like. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

It's been centuries. Centuries of pain, of agonizing nothingness. Centuries of repeating memories of the fight, how it could have gone different and how improbable and unlikely this outcome was. Impossible even. But yet, it is his fate. Their fate, together. 

God either can't hear him or he's just not listening anymore. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Michael refuses to entertain the thought of his Father's abandonment, even after this long and Lucifer takes great pleasure in his chosen ignorance. 

"Daddy loves you not, perhaps you should cut your throat and forfeit your grace, become like the humans he loves so much. Perhaps then he'll take an interest in you?"

Other times it's not teasing. It's violence, emotionally crippling to anyone but the strongest and eldest of Heaven, save for the Father of the Earth himself. Yet he's weaker than he once was. Michael would give anything to see Lucifer show a single drop of true emotion. An sliver of passion in his hatred would suffice. Yet there is nothing. 

His peels of laughter lack mirth, his jokes not matching his tone, his eyes vacant of any form of recognition. Michael could be a random human on the sidewalk for all his enemy seemed to pick up. 

The angel, his father, the humans and even some of the demon's insist the devil is evil. The original sin. His true nature instilled in the smaller yet ambitious being, his father's second son, bore the original sins: pride, envy, sloth, lust, greed, and above all, his wrath. 

Deep down, Michael fears the worst. That it's not an act. He's not evil, he just has nothing left inside.

Michael heard the stories of the humans who lost their souls and he wonders sometimes if the same can happen to angels. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Michael has thought every last thought that could be had. There is nothing left to mill over, nothing interesting to dwell on. 

Even his fury has finally dulled. 

And just as he has begun to truly give up,

The fires go out and the blackness turns to stars. The end of the nightmare has begun. He's been rescued.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. There's something captivating about Lucifer's story and I hope I've captured it in my own reimagining of him as a full person instead of a flat character like the show portrayed him. Same goes to Castiel, who deserves better than that ending. Enjoy, my new friends and feel free to comment anything you'd like, doesnt even have to be about this particular story. Even just about the show or how you relate to the characters, I'm just excited to hear from and get to know you all. C:  
> //Dustin the Great (101oBsEsSioNs)


End file.
